They are only around 200 metres apart and differ by little more than 50 years in age, but the Elite Cinema in Upper Parliament Street and the Theatre Royal around the corner in Theatre Square are worlds apart, writes Nigel Kirk.

The Elite was one of the first examples of a British interpretation of the grand American picture palace. Palatial it certainly was, and so it remains, especially following the just completed restoration and cleaning of the exterior.

On the coldest day of the year, in a snow storm, I leapt at the chance to see up close the highly ornate façade of the Elite on the day the scaffolding was scheduled to be dismantled.

The former Elite cinema building in the snow last week

Now that 90 years'-worth of Nottingham smoke and pollution has been removed it is stunning, and I would urge anyone instead of hurrying past this familiar landmark - now home to two jewellery shops - to look especially at the upper storeys, because I think you will see it now in a new light.

The same Hathern company in Leicestershire that supplied the original creamy white glazed architectural faience with which the building is faced and ornamented is still in business, and has supplied replacement details where necessary.

I first viewed the life-sized allegorical statues of Shakespeare and other giants. They were eerily lying prone, having been taken apart and removed indoors for stabilisation and cleaning.

It was odd seeing them dismembered into several sections with limbs here and torsos there. They originally occupied individual niches (aedicules) around the attic storey.

Statue of Shakespeare at the former Elite cinema building

Venturing out onto the top tier of scaffolding one appreciates every detail of this great Nottingham building. It was pure fantasy, whimsical but grand rather like a giant wedding cake.

Today outlandish modern architecture springs up around us all the time; but this huge, unique white mass would then have really stood out from the drab stone and dark red brick of the late Victorian buildings that surround it.

Work began on the Elite in 1919. It was a bold investment in the future immediately after four long and dreadful years of World War One.

One of the architects was also a financial backer of the project, something which would have ensured a first-class result. The interior was originally, if anything, even more amazing than the façad,e with an auditorium that could seat 1,600.

It was opened in August 1921 and the first film to be screened was Pollyanna, starring ‘America’s Sweetheart’ Mary Pickford.

The Elite Cinema around the time of its opening in 1921 (Image: A P Knighton / www.picturethepast.org.uk)

There was a huge Lewis cinema organ, a necessary feature in the pre-talkie era, a ballroom on the top floor and restaurant for fine dining, as well as both a ‘Georgian’ tea room and a ‘Louis XVI’ café.

In June 1929 the Elite became the first cinema in Nottingham to show a talking film.

The 1960s and 1970s were dark days for British cinemas and many, including the Elite, suffered the ignominy of being converted into bingo halls. It is hard to believe that as late as 1972 plans to demolish the building were actively considered. It is now a Grade II* listed structure.

The interior of the Elite cinema in Parliament Street, as shown in the souvenir brochure for the opening ceremony in 1921

It can fairly be thought that the 20th century began in 1918. That was the year Prime Minister David Lloyd George promised to make Britain “a land fit for heroes”. The enormous social and political changes that followed – such as women getting the vote – and the first signs of a less deferential or ‘Victorian’ Britain, the rise of modernism and scientific discovery, political upheaval and by the 1930s the rise of nationalism.

It was for these modern Britons that the Elite offered a heady mixture of glamour, affordable luxury and escapism, if only for a couple of hours.

Even the very name ‘Elite’ and those of rival chains – Regent, Savoy, Ritz and Empire to name but a few - are redolent of the no-expense-spared, VIP treatment that awaits all willing to hand over their ‘2 bob’ (10p) and enter. The only interiors that could match such grandeur were those of some of the great ocean liners of the ‘30s.

View from the former Elite cinema building

From the cinema’s roof the views across the city’s skyline are interesting. One reminded me almost of Moscow, with a cluster of interesting roof shapes - the Russian feeling enhanced by the blizzard!

FIND OF THE WEEK

This pressed felt doll which went under the hammer on Wednesday sold for an enormous hammer price of £1,900.

Just why it went for so much can be summed up in a single word – condition.

Found amongst the effects from a local family home over which Mellors & Kirk was recently asked to cast an expert eye, it was discovered still in the original cardboard box. Perhaps its owner was frightened by it – and who can blame them? – or maybe it was gift for a child that died. We shall never know.

The doll made by the Italian company Lenci

Made by the Italian company Lenci when Mussolini ruled Italy, the Turin factory was run by Enrico and Elena Scavini. Their boy and girl dolls were first made as a side-line, the firm becoming famous for its ceramic figures, some of which were designed by Elena. These epitomise a somewhat light-hearted interpretation of Art Deco and can be quite risqué, or even shocking in their ambiguity.

Both the figures and the dolls are very collectable, but because the soft earthenware is so easily damaged and the fabric of the dolls is susceptible to moth damage or play-wear, they are seldom in good condition. They began to be sought after in the 1970s or 80s, before which they would have regarded as merely secondhand and practically worthless.

The name ‘Lenci’ was derived from Elena’s German pet name Lenchen. By the 1930s the Lenci factory had 300 employees.

Lenci dolls and the pottery figures are unlikely to fall out of favour because they are so redolent of their period and, in an odd way, can be quite appealing.